


Valkyrie Profile: Welch

by The_Exile



Category: Star Ocean: The Second Story | Second Evolution, Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth
Genre: Alternate Universe, Astral Projection, Crossover, Demonic Possession, Doom, M/M, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Twisted Humour, Virtual Reality, all the Spicule, drunk Decus, lots of fire, petrification, smouldering kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an ill-advised virtual journey into his own unconscious mind, Decus is possessed by Surt. After tragically falling in battle, Welch is chosen as an emergency replacement Valkyrie by Freya in order to go and fight him, alongside two very strange choices of Einherjar. Meanwhile, Vesper un-petrifies Chisato to go and find out where Decus went, sparking even more internal conflict between the Ten Wise Men.</p><p>Written for Apocalypse Bang 2014. A sequel to More Complicated and Beyond the One.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everything was on fire.

Jets of flame erupted from vents in the blackened rocks all around him, reaching above his head. As he walked across the crust of congealed magma to the vast crater's edge and looked over the volcanic landscape, enjoying the crunching sensation and blistering heat underneath his feet, he saw a river of lava flowing down a sheer cliff before flowing across the basin, melting strange, almost organic shapes into the rock. Great clouds of ash blew in the scorching sirocco winds that also spread gouts of flame to fall in sheets like a burning aurora across the sky, already black with thick smoke that almost blotted out the too-large sun. Tiny embers, mere motes of light, hovered and danced like will-o-wisps in the endless infernal night. No mortal could survive here, maybe not even those who served under him, only he belonged here. Nothing lived, not even charred remnants of something that might have been, nothing except the flames themselves that seemed more vital, more brilliant, than any mortal soul, their constantly changing shape and flickering shadows revealing a myriad of truths to him as they danced to their own wild, fey rhythm.

A couple of the diminutive fire elementals abruptly stopped in their tracks and sped over to him, hovering around the object of their fascination, his head, which was permanently aflame. Although half of his face was obscured by the flames, his stocky features, pointed ears and his badly shaved frizzy red hair was clearly visible. Although insanity gleamed in his too-bright eyes, there was a broad smile on his face as he thought about the glorious implications of what he was witnessing all around him. 

Absolutely nothing came as a surprise to him about the topography of his subconscious mind. No hidden heart encased in ice lay in the depths of his psyche, no underground lakes of calm or enchanted glades that represented his compassionate and fragile side, nothing to suggest that he had ever lied to himself in his life, never mind that he had an irreversibly fractured personality and was liable to suddenly suffer a nervous breakdown at any moment. Comforted by this knowledge, he began to hum a jaunty tune in his high-pitched screeching voice. His new pets bobbed along to the rhythm, giving him the appearance of some fairy tale Princess as depicted in the nightmares of a small child who had been horribly traumatised by a house fire. At least someone appreciates the soulful beauty of my singing voice, he thought to myself. Maybe I should name them. Ruprecht would have named them. He would probably have taught them tricks by now.

He wasn't sure what to do first, in this brilliantly burning utopia of his. He could do whatever he liked, and nobody could stop him. It was the exact way he imagined the Universe would become when Cyril described his plan, when they had finally conquered everything and lived as Gods for whom whims were laws of reality, during one of his rants that he thought Decus couldn't overhear. Except that Cyril would probably do something needlessly complicated with his portion of the Universe, rather than just watch it burn for the heck of it. The only sad thing was that Decus couldn't really make his surroundings be any more on fire than they already were. He wished he had left himself something amusing to reduce to ashes, maybe something that burned pretty colours.

Oh, and he wished he had some clue how he was created. He probably didn't have any interesting repressed memories. This was it. This was him, his entire life, and it always had been. He cackled in joy, then rose one arm to the incandescent skies and felt his own spirits rise as the urge welled up the finally be where he belonged.

"SPICULE!" he screamed, launching himself off the cliff just as he unleashed every single mote of his powers into a conflagration that lit up the skies, its resulting shockwave tearing a large chunk off the side of the cliff and sending an avalanche of flaming rocks like a miniature meteor shower down the canyon after him.

His first thought when he rose from his crouched landing position was that he felt like doing it again, and that absolutely nothing in the Universe could stop him. His second thought was that the people who suddenly surrounded him were really quite large.

As a master strategist (Decus was such a good strategist that even Cyril referred to him as a 'strategic weapon' and ordered Vesper to watch him closely at all times, obviously so that his friend could learn from his genius), Decus was well aware that size didn't mean all that much in a conflict, assuming that they were even hostile. However, it was no coincidence that he suddenly started to notice how much he wished Vesper were here. Showing the beauty of his secret paradise to Vesper would have been far more interesting than just exploring it for himself, and he was a little confused that the man wasn't in here, considering how often he found himself thinking about Vesper these days. More immediately important, all of his most effective battle tactics tended to assume Vesper was fighting alongside him. Alone and outnumbered by potential threats much larger than himself, if not necessarily more powerful, he felt less confident than he really ought to in a world that he had personally constructed. 

He was just trying to remember whether you could really die in this type of simulation or not, and if Marsilio and Shigeo had followed him into the virtual reality machine, when he was distracted by the fire giants, with their fearsome, shifting visages and blazing swords, who bent to one knee and genuflected to him, one after the other. Slowly, the one he assumed to be their leader lifted his head in a manner that suggested he was afraid of meeting Decus' gaze directly. This was made an awkward process by the fact that the giant was ten times his size, so he closed his eyes instead.

"We rejoice at your return and hope you were not too badly scarred by your ordeal," his voice rumbled, causing the very ground to shake and setting off yet another eruption behind them, "We humbly await your orders."


	2. Chapter 2

“I'm awake?” Chisato exclaimed, aware instantly of how much of an idiot she sounded. Still, the concept sounded utterly astonishing and very, very wrong.

“Yes, I revived you from petrification,” replied Vesper, holding out the empty bottle of Stone Cure. Only the one. She couldn't really move her head much before she was exhausted from the shock of being in a body that could suddenly move, and she couldn't hear anyone else in the room. It was a small, dimly lit room – she could just make out the walls – and it definitely wasn't the eighth floor of Phynal Tower. She gave him a blank stare of utter incredulity, wordlessly demanding an answer. 

“You woke me up alone. He said you wouldn't bother waking me up. That it'd be too late anyway, that there wouldn't be a physical Universe left for me to go to. He said that... that eventually I'd just... that eternity would be made easier... I don't want to think about it any more, I wish he'd stop talking to me, but there would just be nothingness without his voice,” said Chisato. Then, in a slightly worried tone, she whispered, “He's not here, is he?”

In reply, he leaned closer to her so that they were directly face to face. He had one of those faces that couldn't help looking a little menacing, but he didn't seem to be all that enthusiastically threatening her. His sigh sounded weary, as though he didn't want to be having this conversation any more than she did, and his voice was quiet and precise in a way that chilled her blood more than if he was overtly threatening to kill her, “I don't know. You're going to find him for me. I hear you're good at obtaining information.”

Chisato blinked, now even more confused, “Where are your own intelligence specialists? Ruprecht and Jibril, I think they're called?”

“I needn't bother the other Wise Men with this.”

“Oh, I get it. You're up to something that isn't strictly within your orders, or maybe even your programming,” If she had been in a better mood, she would have smirked with satisfaction at obtaining the juicy tidbit of gossip. She hadn't been herself for a long time. Well, not as far as she knew; she hadn't been in receipt of enough sensory information to measure the passage of time while she was petrified, even with Decus' occasional little anecdotes about his daily life.

“Maybe. It's hardly your concern. I'm offering you your life and your freedom in return.”

“It must be something really important to you,” she almost did smile, then, as she shook her head, “I'll only do it if you revive the others. I can't just leave without them, not if I have any chance of saving them.”

“I can't do that. I'd have no insurance against you betraying me, and I'm well aware that I couldn't handle all of you, even with you also being one down. Your combined forces could easily have defeated me, you have a grudge against me, and I'm not as strong on my own. I wasn't exactly unscathed in that battle myself, you know.”

“And that justifies Welch's death? And everything else you two put us through? Even though you're working for someone who's trying to delete the Universe?”

“See? You're very good at finding things out. Now, just find Decus for me and I'll let you retreat unharmed. I'll even revive one of your choosing. A life for a life. Or I could preserve someone else here for you, so they'll survive what's going to happen to the Universe.”

“You're really worried about Decus, aren't you?” 

“You should be worried about him, too. Or rather, about the place where he is. I have literally no idea. It might be your home town. I can't relay orders to him, so he's probably doing whatever he wants.”

“I think you're not worried about averting a crisis like that,” Chisato pressed, “And you still haven't told me why you're not just getting the other Sages to help you with this.”

“I wouldn't recommend going to the other Sages with this. They have no reason to keep you alive whatsoever. If you're not going to be discrete, I have no interest in employing you.”

“Maybe I don't expect to live through this anyway. Maybe I just want to report whatever you're up to, if it means I've done at least some damage.”

He sighed again, “Look, I'm not telling them because Decus went on unauthorised leave, along with Shigeo and Marsilio, and not one of them returned. I asked my team and they can't find him, even with their specialist skills. I'm not telling Berle because he takes orders from the other two in his team, and I can't trust them entirely. For all I know, Cyril went above Decus' head and ordered Shigeo to betray him. I don't trust Cyril at all, and I'm concerned he'll use the information about the unauthorised absence to persuade Indalecio to let him punish Decus, and possibly me as well, in the more permanent way he's always wanted to. I'm going to be in even bigger trouble for reviving you, you know, but that is of no concern. Decus won't be punished if I make it obvious enough that it was me, and it distracts him while you go and find Decus. And of course, I can't tell Indalecio directly, in case Cyril has already reached him. If I go looking myself, I'll get in trouble for leaving without permission and Cyril will be able to guess from context that this is about Decus.”

“But you don't actually care that Shigeo and Marsilio are also gone.” 

“Only in that they might have done something to Decus, and I want to know what,” said Vesper, “So, now you know. Maybe you want to try and find out my weakness. Or maybe you could pull at those loose threads until our inner coherency completely falls apart. Or just return stronger, or with more reinforcements. I don't care, as long as you return with what I asked for.” 

“I think I already know your weakness. But it's okay. I'm not really bothered any more,” said Chisato, “I'm not going to stoop to your level. I'm not going to take the most important person in your life from you.”

“A wise decision. And you really do catch on to the situation quick. Now, it's been a while, so if I were you, I'd start by checking to see what direction the pillars of flame are coming from.”


	3. Chapter 3

Welch found herself floating, suspended in endless darkness. It didn't terrify her as much as she expected it to. Mostly it was just neutral, simply there. There was something quite calming about the lack of sensation after all the chaos she vaguely remembered, scenes of blood, of fire and her comrades' screaming, of running, trying to reach for something... She didn't remember much else, only that she was very lucky to still be alive. 

"I'm afraid you really did fall in battle on that day," said a female voice, calm and collected, that gave Welch the impression she was being spoken to by someone well practiced at speaking, someone with an air of great authority. Welch didn't remember having spoken, so the owner of the voice could also apparently read her thoughts. Or maybe it was obvious what she was thinking, from the way she was gawping and staring at her own hands as if she didn't understand why her body was still there. She couldn't really feel her body at all, and although her limbs moved when she willed them to, there was something slightly immaterial about their appearance, as though her body was actually a well rendered hologram, or maybe a dream. She wondered if this was the afterlife, which she had always imagined would be kind of like dreaming eternally.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you pass on," said the voice. Space shimmered and rippled in the shape of a sphere, as though she were watching ripples in an endless black lake with more dimensions than it really ought to have. Inside the centre of the sphere appeared a female figure, ageless with a regal beauty that bordered upon the inhuman. Her hair was long and blonde, like Welch's, and she wore a short green skirt with long sleeves, matching long boots and a round cap with two small white horns. 

"Freya?" gasped Welch, having worked out how to speak in her incorporeal form, "Really? No way!"

"I see you recognise me. That is good. Sometimes it appears as though the Gods have been forgotten," remarked Freya, "Your name is Welch Vineyard? I have need of you for an urgent matter."

Welch snapped the fingers of her right hand and held up a finger triumphantly, "A-ha! Now I know this is my dream! I had one just like this before! That means I didn't die in such a horrible way! I was just being forewarned by my subconscious so I wouldn't do such a stupid thing! Thank you, Freya! I mean, I don't know what possessed me to walk straight into what I knew would be a boss room when I still needed to level some more to catch up with the others and I had a feeling we weren't really ready for the battle yet anyway, and I tried to warn Claude, I really did, but..."

The Goddess shook her head, letting Welch's hyperactive speech trail off and her elation vanish rather rapidly afterwards, "This is no dream. But you will have the chance to take your revenge upon the one who slew you. In fact, it is the very reason I called upon you. And, yes, I realise you need a lot more power if you're to fight such a dangerous enemy. That is why I brought you here, to lend you the strength of the Gods."

"Um... me? Really? My time has finally come to shine? Do I get to be a sexy Valkyrie like in my dream?"

"Welch, I think you need to realise that this is not like the dream you are imagining. You were chosen among your companions, not because it is your destiny, but because I could not reach the others. To borrow the souls of the living would put them in great danger of not being able to return to their bodies, and I would rather avoid it if I can possibly find a replacement."

"The others are alive? Why don't you just ask them nicely to do it, then? Oh," Welch looked crestfallen again as she remembered the fate of every member of her party but herself.

"Petrification has spared them immediate death but their souls are still in great danger," Freya told her, "Do not delay your mission too long if you ever wish to see them again."

"Well, duh, the whole Universe is in great danger! Can't we just cut out the middle man and rain down some divine punishment on Indalecio?" 

"The one known as Indalecio is a great threat, but not the most immediate. If you do not stop him, the one who slew you will come after me next. I am not fated to survive the battle. And after that, he will become unstoppable. I can no longer guarantee that he will destroy himself in his own flames. Some of his experiences during his escape into the mortal world have altered his nature. Even if he should fail, I will be gone from the world, and there will be no hope of saving you or anyone else who could defend your own realm." 

"Is there something I'm missing about Decus?"

"Decus... yes, that's the name of the vessel chosen by Surt. But he has remembered his true self. None of the seals we put on him can be used to contain him again."

"I thought Loki killed Surt," said Welch, "Or Lenneth, depending on which Ending you're talking about. I didn't think he was really that dangerous. The story didn't even focus on him that much."

"No, we didn't, did we? I was careless and foolish. When he became weaker... when his nature started eroding... all I could think about was pressing the advantage. Finally, I could actually change our destiny and win this war. We wouldn't have to die. We even had him holed up in Jotunheim. His entire forces were wiped out. I almost felt sorry for him. I knew he had allies in some strange places - he even acquired an army of Vanir from somewhere - but I had no idea he could have arranged to escape death!"

Freya looked up to see that Welch was resting her hands on her elbows and listening in barely contained glee to the exciting tale, having apparently forgotten that she was traumatised over her mortality and the immanent fate of the Universe, "Anyway, I don't know where he had been hiding - I assumed he went back to Muspelheim to lick his wounds, but he wasn't there when I went looking for him. Then I found out that some idiot mortals had summoned him into their realm in some unspeakable arcane ritual. I was hoping he would be too weakened to break free of his mortal shell, and I was right - for aeons, he never even showed signs that he was interested in leaving. I thought he might even have given up. But then, a day ago, he left sight of the others created at the same time as him, who had at least been aware that they needed to keep his power in check..."

"Decus deserted the other Wise Men?" Welch scratched her head, annoyed that she had been forced to use her actual left hand for this job, as her Handy Stick had failed to manifest in the divine realm alongside her. What kind of a dumb Valkyrie couldn't manifest a weapon?

"I apologise. Someone lifted your weapon off your remains. I tried to take it back for you, but the process of taking it was apparently too symbolically important."

"Someone's messing with my corpse?" Welch growled, "I need to protect myself from the perverts, right now! They might be... doing something unsavoury to it!"

"I shouldn't worry, only a pile of ashes remains of you. If anything, you've been rather thoroughly purified."

"That's not reassuring!" Welch's voice rose an octave, "Find out what they're doing! Now!"

"Welch, you can't go off and chase the shadows of the mortal realm now. You have an urgent job to do! You still haven't even met the Einherjar I picked out especially for you!" 

"I don't care about them! I'm not going anywhere until you at least let me see what they're doing with my Handy Stick, and the statues of the others!"

"It will only cause you sorrow, and you won't be able to continue your quest with a clear head. You'll want to interact with the world again, but I wouldn't be able to let you even if I wanted to."

"I won't give up my mission as long as I know that there's still hope. I want to see that Decus, or Surt, or whatever his name is, pays for what he's done!"

"So be it. I'll track down the exact location of your weapon right now," said Freya, before disappearing. Moments later, she winked back into existence with a surprised look on her face.

"One of your companions has been revived from petrification while we were talking!" she said, "They're in some kind of negotiations with the enemy!"

"That sounds like Chisato, she could talk anyone into anything," said Welch, "Which enemy? Is it Decus?"

Freya shook her head, "One of the others. She's taking your weapon back... she's giving the enemy something in return for it..." her placid face suddenly took on a stern expression, "Welch! You have to go now!"

"But you said I could..."

"I've spotted a window of opportunity to go straight to where you need to be! You'll have to meet your Einherjar on the other side of the gate..."

"What gate?" demanded Welch, but her protests were drowned out by a pillar of pure spiritual energy, swirling with white feathers and silver motes of light, that consumed her in an instant. She was still screaming rather indignantly when she emerged, dressed in a flowing gown the same deep blue as her usual outfit, underneath a matching elegantly crafted breastplate, gauntlets, greaves and a winged helmet that had been specially designed to allow her long pigtails to flow freely while still protecting them. In one hand she held a copy of her Handy Stick made out of ethereal silver light.

"What the... don't just churn these out like a machine! I'm still in the process of patenting them, you know!" she waved them at Freya, who rolled her eyes and kicked her new Valkyrie back out of the formless divine nexus and into the realm below.


	4. Chapter 4

True to Vesper's word, when she finally stumbled out of the back door he had told her about and looked up at the night sky, Chisato saw that Fun City was in flames. 

She flew the Psynard over as quickly as she could mentally urge it to go, which was around twice its normal flight speed and made her worry that she would either hurt the poor animal or be thrown off and fall to her death. When she arrived at the front gates, she ran inside, ignoring any and all awkward questions with the practiced precision of an ace reporter who had long ago lost the annoying survival instinct that told people to run away from, rather than towards, burning buildings. I'll never learn, she cursed herself silently over and over again, ever. She was gasping for breath when she made it to the Arena. Fortunately, the blaze was being contained to the one area of the city, mostly just the building. There had still been loss of life, even though the Arena had been closed for the night when the fire broke out. It had begun inside the Coliseum pit, the firefighters told her, and it had been so intense that it cracked the protective barrier. Someone had been messing with the simulators – the rumours said it was a terrorist attack by a known subversive organisation. They had only been known for their controversial performance art before, particularly their Ten Sages obsession. What the heck had the Sages been doing here, Chisato wondered, and why had they been in disguise? Why would they bother tampering with the simulators or sneaking in at night when they could just as easily break in during the day and kill everyone? She didn't have time to find out the answers to all the questions that buzzed around in her head like flies. She had to find the obvious thing out of place. Whatever it was that had someone like Vesper panicking, it wouldn't be subtle. 

The simulation room hadn't been destroyed by the blast. Some of the programs were even still running in real time. Someone had tried to protect the room from the inside. Or had they been hiding inside it? Chisato remembered that the simulation room, as the only staffed control room that had to be placed on the inside of the barrier, had its own separate barrier. Maybe there were clues left in the software that was still running... As she peered at the control terminal, she found her answer.

The isolated booth in the back of the Coliseum, the one that nobody really knew existed, that wouldn't appear on a scanner. If he had used it, they might not have found him with an identity scan, either.

Praying to Tria that Vesper would keep his promise, that he really did care enough about the outcome, and also that the people she bribed would actually guard the booth for her without asking too may questions or trying to take a look for themselves, Chisato began running again. She leapt onto the back of the Psynard and shot into the sky, towards Phynal. Back towards the catastrophe she knew was about to happen. Never away from it. Ever.

When she returned, Jibril sneaked her back upstairs. She hadn't realised that his bizarre appearance, the way he seemed to be completely invisible under his cowled robes, as though only a shadow existed, was the result of advanced cloaking technology that he could use on others if he was so inclined. She had never felt so sick with fear at the same time that she was being treated as an honoured guest who was apparently privy to their every secret. That's also how you would treat a hostage if you knew for sure you were going to execute them, she told herself. She was led into the room where Vesper had revived her before, and he was waiting for again. She explained what she had seen.

“And you're absolutely sure you saw correctly?”

She nodded, “The machine's still running. Everything around it is ablaze. If you don't believe me, I'll sit here while you send someone to confirm. I'm not interested in trying to escape. I've got questions of my own.”

“If I send someone there and it turns out to be nothing, Cyril will find out, and he'll demand an explanation.”

“Say that you heard that Marsilio hadn't wrecked the Ten Sages simulator properly before – that you're getting signals from them - and you're just making sure he did the job right. An important piece of tactical simulation equipment like that would be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“And this machine, what would I be able to do even if Decus is in there? Is it safe to remove him?”

She shook her head, “It's a very dangerous machine. Incorrectly extracting him could kill him. I'd suggest moving the booth. They have some backup power to make it easier to move them to a hospital in a medical emergency.”

“Does it look like he's in trouble?”

“I have no idea. He could even be in there of his own free will. He could have decided to hide there from Cyril, for instance.”

“Jibril, take Ruprecht with you to investigate this. If you can, return with the booth,” Vesper told the shadowy figure, who nodded once, then disappeared.

“If you betray me, if they return with anything except confirmation of your story, they're all dead,” he told her.

“And if I didn't? Are you going to keep your own promise to revive one of them?”

“I have something of yours. I'm going to give it back to you as a small token to show you that I plan to keep my word,” he said. Then he teleported off, leaving Chisato entirely alone again. She wondered if she would get away with asking for Rena to be revived. The arrogant man didn't seem to recognise everyone in the party, as he had to be told that it was Welch who had been killed in the battle. However, he seemed to recognise Chisato. Maybe he would remember that Rena had been the healer, and would attempt to revive the others the second she was revived, or maybe he didn't. As she thought about it a little while longer, he appeared again. He was holding something out to her in a ritual gesture. It was Welch's Handy Stick, still intact. Like most symbology-imbued weapons, it had survived the conditions that destroyed its wielder.

“Thank you,” said Chisato, tucking the weapon into her belt. Vesper didn't reply. He teleported off somewhere again.

She waited in silence after that. Every now and then, Vesper returned. Once he made her a cup of tea. He apologised for his rather rusty tea-making skills and explained that Decus usually made the tea. Then he disappeared again. She was left in the silence and darkness with her own thoughts again. She hummed to the tune of 'Climax of the Tower' to break the silence. Sometimes Decus had been randomly singing things in the darkness.

Then Jibril re-appeared. He told Vesper that they had located the booth, confirmed that Decus was inside and were working on prying him out of its casing without disconnecting him from its internal mechanisms that were keeping him alive.

“He's probably more comfortable inside. They're built for comfort,” commented Chisato.

“I wish to see his face,” said Vesper, “I wish to see for myself that he's really there, and that he's okay.”

“Do you think he might not be?”

“I don't know why, but something feels wrong.”

By the time Valkyrie Welch appeared, invisible to the mortal realm, she saw Decus in his bed, wired up to some impressive-looking life support technology. Jibril silently monitored the readings on the apparatus, a look of concern on his face. Vesper sat on a chair next to Decus, staring thoughtfully at his partner's vacant expression and the way that the flames that normally shrouded his face now only smouldered listlessly, barely concealing the left side of his face that didn't quite look human or robotic. The heat was still oppressive, but Vesper could at least reach out a hand to brush his cheek, whispering something reassuring into his ear. 

Chisato held another cup of tea in one hand and idly twirled the Handy Stick and humming the tune of 'Through A Thin Haze' to herself. Welch wished she could speak to her, order her friend not to sing such a sad song because of her, but she wasn't sure if it was wise to reveal her own location. 

“Shigeo and Marsilio are dead,” Jibril said suddenly, “I found records of them entering the simulator. They survived approximately four seconds. I suspect that Decus' subconscious is a terrain that doesn't support life.”

“I should go in,” said Vesper, “He would control himself a little better if he knew he was putting me in danger. He's done it before.”

“I don't recommend it. Look at Decus' brain activity. It's through the roof, even compared to one of his hyperactive states. Something isn't right, and we don't know if he'll react the way we expect him to. I mean, some of these readings don't even make sense. Why is it showing that there are two of him? He's never shown any signs of dissociative identity disorder in his life!”

“Anyway, I think the best you can do right now is keep talking to him and trying to send physical stimuli to his brain,” continued Jibril, “He's most likely to recognise you. I'll try and find an AI simulation of you and send it into the virtual environment with a message from you. I'm having trouble finding the records of our simulations, though. Apparently, Shigeo borrowed them and didn't return them.”

“He's the one who put Decus in danger, then. He deserved to die,” Vesper shrugged, tousling his partner's hair. 

“Maybe you could look in some slightly more restricted archives?” suggested Chisato, “Maybe Indalecio has his own backups, or you could try and look in the Coliseum again...”

“You have a point. Go back to Fun City and take a look. Now,” he ordered, “Jibril, go and make the tea.”

As soon as they were gone, Vesper gazed into Decus' sightless, faraway eyes. “Strong physical stimuli to the brain,” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his own stone-cold eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed Decus firmly on the lips, ignoring the light scorching of his still slow-burning face.

You were going to be in big trouble if that really did work instantaneously, mused Welch, imagining Decus' face instantly reigniting and Vesper's along with it. She understood what her mission was, now. She placed a hand on the screen of the simulator and closed her eyes. Unfortunately, it was at this moment that it occurred to her who her Einherjar logically had to be.


	5. Chapter 5

From his vantage point on the highest peak of the canyon, Decus moved his hands around and channelled his pyrokinesis as though conducting an orchestra. At his command, the individual parts of the strategy map he had crafted out of flames moved into position. Entire illusory worlds spun in their orbits as the hordes of Eldjotnar amassed on the galaxy's outskirts. In his screeching, grating voice, Decus explained which worlds were the most flammable, which orbited close enough to other planets to effectively spread the fires, which nebulae would provide the best cover for the initial ambush and which suns were the best stops to refuel at. The plan was to surround the galaxy and encroach upon most heavily populated planets to block off all exits. Personally, he thought it was a good plan, especially considering he had only thought of it just now. His navigation intelligence was a little dated as an inevitable result of being trapped in a prison beyond space and time for billions of years, and he warned the fire giants that the positions of a few constellations may have changed since he last looked at a star chart. 

“It doesn't really matter in the grand scale of things,” he explained, “Because we're going to burn it all down anyway, aren't we?”

His entire army cheered drunkenly. The mead they served here was the best thing about Muspelheim. He didn't get to drink all that often because the alcohol burned away by the time he pressed it to his lips, and occasionally the entire beverage evaporated into steam or even set alight, which admittedly was hilarious, but his new friends seemed to have solved this practical problem out of sheer necessity. Whatever it is they brewed their mead from – Decus hadn't actually spotted any bees yet and it smelled suspiciously like fermented souls – it survived the initial imbibement without trying to make a return appearance, and he was feeling rather light-headed, to the point that he had to step slightly away from the edge of the cliff. 

“I don't think we're going to be able to avoid a confrontation with the enemy even if we hide in the nebulae,” said his adviser, a buxom giantess named Bernadette whose flaming pigtails made Decus jealous that his hair refused to grow long, “Odin was grievously wounded when he was betrayed and we're not even sure if he's still alive, but you're destined to meet Freya on the battlefield. She's a formidable opponent, and you're not fully recovered from your exile, so I'd advise caution.”

“Eh? What's the matter? Don't you think I'm very strong?” Decus glared at her. He was enjoying himself planning the destruction of everything that ever lived, whether or not the havoc wreaked in the virtual world would transmit outside the simulation, but it was starting to irritate him that these figments of his imagination kept talking about things he had no idea about. They used names for places and people he had never heard of in his life, events that he had apparently been involved in that he had no memory of, responsibilities that, while they were turning out to be fun, he didn't like being thrust upon him out of the blue by people who kept demanding things from him and changing the rules every five seconds. 

He understood the basic message that his subconscious was telling him, of course: there was a part of him that resented being programmed to obey Indalecio's every order, a part of him that was curious as to what would would happen if he were in charge. He was no Cyril, to undermine everyone else and plot against them at every opportunity. He didn't even particularly want to contradict the way Indalecio did things. He just wanted more respect within the hierarchy and more interesting responsibilities than just guarding the eighth floor and being treated as a weapon to be dropped on the things that Indalecio liked least. He would settle with just taking Cyril's job, he didn't want to be burdened with responsibility for the entire operation. However, if this was his opportunity to explore these forbidden thoughts in a safe environment, why was everything so out of his control? 

Another thing that frustrated him was the fact that his new friends kept talking about his true power, something locked away inside him that would make him even stronger than he already was, but they never actually told him what this was, other than in vague prophecies from the mythology of somewhere he'd never been, or how to obtain it. They seemed to think it was vitally important that he obtain this power but never gave him any clues, other than he was somehow faulty for not already knowing about it. This was the thing that annoyed him the most: they were so arrogant, thinking that he should play along with their game even though he was allegedly in charge. Sometimes he was even a little worried that they would go as far as trying to stop him leaving the simulation.

“Your radiance outshines my mere candle, Lord of Destruction, but I think that if you waited for even more of your power to return...”

“Eh! Waiting! Do I look like a waiter? The Universe isn't going to incinerate itself, you know! Well, it is eventually, but it's a long time to wait and...”

Suddenly, he broke off his speech, sniffed and looked around.

“Is something the matter, Lord Surt?” asked Bernadette. He shook his head.

“I thought I heard something. Or felt something,” he scratched his head, “I need to go investigate. Hold the fort for me!”

“A General should stay in the war room, not do the work of a guard...”

“No!” Decus snapped, “I will investigate!”

Before the giantess could argue any further, he had already launched into a Spicule that sent him to the other side of the canyon, where he disappeared behind a row of spiny crags. His aim was a little off due to his state of intoxication and he managed to hit the spine of each rock and snap them off before tripping and falling over, sending a trail of flames across the ground behind him as he sprawled across the floor. He picked himself up and carried on running until he sensed that there we no Eldjotnar, at least, following him. Another shudder ran down his spine, an indefinable sensation that he knew was nothing to do with the world he saw around him.

“Vesper? Is that you?” he whispered, “Are you looking for me? You don't need to worry. I'll be home soon, and I'll bring you some souvenirs. I wish you could see me right now. I'm having the time of my life.”

Then he stopped and sniffed again. Against all probability, he suddenly felt cold. There was something else intruding in his dream world and it wasn't friendly. He snarled at it, curling his fingers and watching the flames that casually played over his hands flare up. A dark red flame also streamed from his left eye as he thought of the pleasure he would have consuming the souls of those who had violated his sanctum. He had a vague notion that this wasn't normal and was probably a bad thing, but he was having difficulty thinking about it when the world started spinning and lurching horribly, then he fell over.


	6. Chapter 6

Shigeo and Marsilio looked as confused as Welch did. The two lesser Wise Men looked at each other, down at their bodies, then shrugged. They certainly didn't look any different to their usual selves. Marsilio was a fairly normal-looking tall, muscular, bare-chested man with lupine, shaggy grey hair that flowed down his back. Shigeo's appearance was a lot stranger: he was almost a full body cyborg, with bizarrely proportioned arms that hung at his side and legs that dangled as he hovered slightly above the ground. A helmet covered his face and obscured his eyes, leaving only a completely expressionless mouth. His voice was a flat monotone, almost deliberately a caricature of an android. In a society such as Nede where humanoid robots were so advanced that they had been replaced by other technology long ago, Shigeo's mannerisms could only have been deliberate, probably an attempt to unnerve people. Marsilio was unused to floating, and so spent most of the time concentrating on staying the right way up and preserving at least a small amount of dignity. After running a brief scan on himself and his companion, Shigeo shook the scanner on his arm, smacked it a couple of times, then gave Welch an accusing glance.

“I'm not getting a life signature. I even remember being instantly immolated,” he said.

“Yup, I'm afraid that's what happened,” said Welch, placing her hands on her hips, “I know it sounds weird, but bear with me, okay?”

“On retrospect, it was a foolish decision on my part to attempt entry into Decus' subconscious with insufficient fire resistance modules equipped,” said Shigeo, “I was under the impression that I would not survive the experience of death in such a notoriously intense simulation.”

“Well, here's the really awkward part...”

“Shigeo, that's the enemy! Why are we just sitting here talking to the enemy?” demanded Marsilio.

“I'm not your enemy! Honest!” Welch shook her head vigorously, causing her pigtails to shake from side to side, “Why won't you two shut up and listen to me? I'm not just Welch any more! I'm appearing to you as a Valkyrie! I've chosen you two as Einherjar to fight for me! … Apparently. Did you guys really just jump into a simulation of Decus' subconscious mind?”

“Well, we kind of got dragged in there... it's complicated...” Marsilio scratched his head, “Are we really dead?”

“Don't listen to her lies!” snapped Shigeo, “Valkyries? Einherjar? She's completely delusional! Remember what Indalecio said? The only Gods are the ones we make of ourselves! And you know what death feels like, anyway, remember? There was almost too little of us left to restore from backup. And it was in a battle with these people! But you're on your own now, and there are two of us. We may be a little scorched around the edges but we can still take you down!”

“Oh yeah?” she pointed her Handy Stick at Shigeo at an angle that, if Shigeo had a visible nose, would imply she wanted to ram it right up his left nostril and excavate his brain with it, “Well, I don't think you were listening, 'cause I just said I wasn't the same Welch any more! It'll go down badly on your performance review to Freya if you don't obey my orders, mark my words! It'll be the C ending for the both of you!”

“Hey, do you remember who it was who healed us?” asked Marsilio, ignoring Welch's ranting.

“Of course I remember! Why do you think I invited him to participate in our project in the first place? He came back to retrieve us even though Cyril ordered him not to.”

“Yeah, exactly. But Decus is still stuck in the simulator. And nobody else knows we're here, because you said to keep the simulation project a secret from Cyril at all costs. So, nobody will have been there to heal us. Shigeo... I think we might really be dead.”

“Decus healed you? And you're not going to go and rescue him in return?” Welch waved the stick at him.

“Rescue him? You think he's some kind of helpless victim? Going back in there would have exactly the same effect as before, anyway.”

“Not now you aren't in a mortal body. An Einherjar is given an ethereal body. They're a lot more fireproof, although this is Decus we're talking about, so I'd still watch yourselves,” said Welch, “But don't you think it's odd that he recognises you as his friends but he didn't stop his inner world from killing you? Isn't that a sign in itself that something's wrong?”

“He's probably just in a bad mood. Or he had too much caffeine. Collateral damage isn't just something we expect around him, it's what we rely on,” Marsilio shrugged, “He even accidentally caught Vesper in a Spicule, once.”

“You idiots! Can't you see? He 'even' hurt Vesper 'once'. Haven't you even thought about why you use that choice of words so casually?” her face went red from rising anger, frustration and just a little embarrassment at having to say things out loud that she was fairly sure she was supposed to be keeping secret, “You know what? Just trust me on this. If we don't go and save him now, we'll lose him for good, and we'll lose everything else in the process!”

“You do remember that we're working for someone who wants to delete the Universe, right?” 

“Well, you idiots wouldn't have a hope of succeeding without Decus anyway, so just shut up and be a good Einherjar.”

* * *

Freya blinked and stared at the Water Mirror again. The visions she received no longer made any sense. Either she had lost more power from her battle with Loki than she realised, and it had affected her oracular abilities, or something was interfering with the scrying apparatus in a serious way. The realm she had identified as Muspelheim, even though the incarnation of Surt who called himself Decus apparently believed it was his own subconscious mind, was rapidly filling up with power, to the point that she half-expected it to grow unstable and implode on itself before its dread inhabitants could even begin their invasion of the other realms. Not that this would be a better outcome - the resulting shockwave of an entire realm's death, along with the fate paradox of its sudden nonexistence, would be enough in and of itself to destabilise the entire Universe. The level of uncontrolled energy in the place she scried upon was almost certainly causing the interference that kept scrambling her device, unless they had some kind of electronic counter-measures, which was probably a little advanced for an army whose proposed strategy so far was 'get riotously drunk and set fire to everything'. There was also the possibility that fate itself was being distorted, and that the reality it predicted would soon follow.

The two anomalies that annoyed her the most were a) the signals from an even higher plane than the divine, probably one of Tria's minions who had been alerted to the two worlds crossing over and had come through the Seraphic Gate to meddle in their affairs again, and b) the continued insistence by the mirror's Narratively Important Individual Detector that there were two of Decus.

Freya jerked her hand away from the Water Mirror as it began to boil, then steam rose from it. She could already see the figure approaching her from behind, a flash of red darting through her peripheral vision. She stayed just a second longer, just to send an emergency broadcast to her sole, newly initiated Valkyrie with the last of the Mirror's fading power. Pillars toppled behind her, the grass igniting under the intruder's feet. He held his flaming sword almost casually in one hand as he advanced inexorably towards the Goddess. The sword that the other one, the distraction, hadn't been wielding, a detail she should have noticed. 

“NOWHERE TO RUN, FOOL. TIME TO PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME,” declared Surt.

Any attempt to reach an exit would indeed be futile, she realised. There was no time for words either. Rising further into the sky, she gathered her energy into an Ether Strike. She would make a last stand, and trust that fate had been warped to her advantage as much as it had to her enemy's.


	7. Chapter 7

Welch was surprised to find her intrusion into Decus' subconscious (or Muspelheim, or both, whichever the truth was - having only been made a Valkyrie about an hour ago, she still hadn't read up on the finer points of divine manifestation and metaphysical realms) completely unimpeded. She knew the realm was inhabited - she could hear the drunken racket and random wanton destruction from the other side of the mountain range, and the pillars of flame also rose higher than its peaks - but she didn't run into even a single guard on patrol. She wasn't sure if that was just a normal amount of noise for fire giants, but their frenzied yells sounded ritualistic, more like an organised state of trance than a random berserk firestarting spree. She stayed under the cover of the thick ash clouds where possible, so that she could try and ambush any patrols that she did happen to spot, but she still flew as fast as she could, so that they could find Decus, stop whatever he was up to and leave this hellish place as soon as possible. Visibility was awful and she kept flying into things, much to the amusement of her dubious choice of Einherjar. Eventually, Shigeo offered to lead the party, as his helmet allowed him to see in several different spectrums and he was slightly more used to being airborne than his comrades. Flying was an exhilarating experience, one that gave her a sensation of total freedom, but she felt that it would be more fun to practice in a place where she could actually see what she was doing and there were less features of her environment that could instantly kill her if she flew into them. 

By the time she had reached the top of the canyon where the fire giants were gathered, they had still only encountered a single patrol of four guards. The patrol had easily been taken out by Marsilio's massive laser field-augmented broadsword, Shigeo's portable missile unit and a divine assault from Valkyrie Welch's Ethereal Handy Stick. Now she saw what they had all been called away for: Decus was chained, unconscious but still alive, to an obsidian rune-inscribed monolith behind a bloodstained black altar. Looking at the black iron chains, large enough to chain an elephant, made Welch feel sick as her Valkyrie senses screamed at her that they absolutely reeked with forbidden magic, probably the only reason they were enough to contain an angry Decus in the first place. A small army of drunken Eldjotnar were gathered around the great altar, swaying in an unhinged ritual dance and chanting in a language that Welch only understood because of the divine knowledge that she was imbued with as a Valkyrie. The flames that wreathed their forms flickered and swirled as they cavorted, and snakes of flame were drawn into the altar as though dragged by an invisible wind. A swirling vortex of flame collected around the altar and an amorphous shape was writhing inside it, as though something were melting in reverse.

"Surt returns soon! He requires more power!" bellowed the ritual leader, whose face was hidden underneath a shapeless cowled red robe, "His imperfect shell was ruined in the battle, so he needs to transfer into the true shell now! This shell's spirit is too strong to be wrested away from it in his weakened state! He needs your spirits' energy right now or we'll lose him altogether, so pick up the pace!"

"Death to those who tricked our Lord with a fake shell!" roared another giant, a female.

"Yes! Burn the world!" growled another, very drunk voice.

"I knew it. Decus was just being possessed," whispered Welch, "But what do they mean by a fake shell?"

"Yeah, about that..." replied Marsilio.

"We think they might have encountered a virtual copy of Decus," said Shigeo. 

"You made more of him?" Welch gave him a look as though he had confessed that he had spent all evening juggling nuclear missiles while riding a unicycle on a tightrope.

"It's only a battle simulation. We were messing around with the Coliseum data on the Ten Wise Men. I don't think it's even up to date. You'd have to be stupid to think it's a real person you can possess," commented Marsilio.

"And why did you load it onto Decus' subconscious dive simulator?"

"We didn't. It broke out and followed him in."

"It broke out? How can it be capable of that?"

"I don't know either. I guess it's an accurate representation of how annoying he can be. Did I mention it pulled us in after it?" 

"Yeahhhh, 'just' a simulation," Welch said, "I wonder who the fight was with... oh well, we can't just stand here watching and arguing. We have to disrupt their ritual, for Decus' sake, our own and that of the entire Universe!"

"But we're outnumbered hundreds to one, and interfering with a God-level symbological rite we know literally nothing about could cause any number of consequences more catastrophic than the ritual's intended outcome. I think we need a proper strategy!" said Shigeo, before bowing his head, the lights inside his mask looking dim with disappointment, "But we no longer have our strategist, of course."

"Decus is your strategist?" Welch gave them an utterly bemused look.

"It's okay, Shigeo, we'll just do what he always said we should do if he ever goes down. We just carry his banner and do what we know he'd tell us to do," said Marsilio.

"I'm not sure his favoured strategy would work in this place."

"Has he ever lost a battle?"

"Well, the one against his virtual self was sort of a stalemate..."

"He lost that body, remember? And nothing else in this Universe is ever going to replace him," said Marsilio, hefting his sword and striding towards the cliff edge, "Come on, Valkyrie, what are you waiting for? Ragnarok?"

"Marsilio..." Shigeo sighed, "Oh well, at least I'll get to kill things before I die."

"That's the spirit! To battle, my noble Einherjar!" cried Welch, spreading out her wings of pure blue energy and pointing her Handy Stick at the target of her wrath, the foul altar and its infernal master of ceremonies, "Divine Assault... Nibelung Whatever!"

Out of the smoke and flames strode the Valkyrie, the swordsman and the merciless cyborg death machine, raining down missiles and divine rays of destruction upon the giants, whose fever-pitch chanting turned to roars of outrage as several of their number dropped, their fires dying out and their immense forms crumpling to the floor without time to even recognise their enemy. Basalt columns exploded, falling on top of the monolith and sending it crashing into the flaming altar. The chains strained but did not snap. Marsilio yelled Decus' name and ran towards the altar, hurtling chunks of flaming masonry out of the way. A berserk giant appeared above him, leaping from the pile of rubble and swinging its flaming sword over its head to crush Marsilio's skull. His laser force field appeared around him, then Shigeo swooped down and fired off a volley of missiles that knocked the giant across the clearing, tearing chunks from his form that would have killed him, had he been mortal. He roared and chased after the lesser Wise Man, leaving Marsilio to keep digging. Meanwhile, Welch swung her Handy Stick in wide arcs, leaving trails of light as intricate as a map of the Universe. At first she had shown signs of her old, slightly clumsy, Welch-persona, but at the ring of steel, the smell of blood, something else had taken over. Each connecting blow severed a limb, sending a giant crashing to the ground, and the battle maiden did not tire from the effort but only looked more serene, her every step perfect, every arc of her weapon flowing into the last in a pattern that went beyond efficiency and into true beauty. Soon, a lot more of the giants were thinking about trying for the easier targets - the billion-year-old purpose-built war machines - instead.

Then the area around the shrine exploded and a pillar of flame to rival the volcano's eruption burst from it. Marsilio was lost from view within a split second. Welch thought she saw Shigeo, but his silhouette evaporated. The only thing she saw within the blinding white light and rippling heatwaves that were now starting to take their toll on even her ethereal body, was a figure who stood as tall as the column of flame itself, its roar sending tremors through the ground. The outline vaguely resembled Decus, but with wildly overgrown facial hair, eyes that were two red pinpricks consumed by hatred and a flaming sword that was pointed straight at Welch.

"YOUR OWNER IS DEAD, DOG," declared Surt in a booming voice, "YOU ARE NEXT." 

“My owner? Do you mean Freya? Why didn't she contact me if she was in mortal danger?”

“THE MIRROR IS MELTED. YOUR ENTIRE REALM IS BURNED TO THE GROUND. SO YOU THOUGHT YOU'D COME AND INVADE MY REALM INSTEAD OF DEFENDING YOUR OWN? WELL, IT CAN BE YOUR FUNERAL PYRE!”

“You're the intruder! Give Decus his soul back or I'll take it from you by force!” Welch cried, swinging her Handy Stick around as she charged toward the enemy. The attack disappeared into the wall of flame that surrounded the Lord of Destruction, causing no reaction except malicious, humourless laughter as he brought his own sword around in a wide arc, sending out a wave of flame. She tried to hover out of its way but she still wasn't all that good at flying. Fighting, yes, but she had done that before, and flying was a lot more complicated than people who could already do it made it look. She called out to her spirit, to her divine nature, to hurry up and do more Valkyrie stuff, but all she saw in that place in her heart was a black, fathomless, icy pool of fated defeat. Her eyes went wide as the white-hot light shrank to a small dot and then gave way to the blackness.

Then came back on. Again.


	8. Chapter 8

Welch vaguely remembered seeing the room before. Its architecture was like nothing she had ever seen on any of the worlds she had been to so far, with vast chambers constructed to match no particular shape, out of giant stone blocks and columns intricately engraved with tightly packed rows of hieroglyphs. Platforms and balconies floated on their own under an unseen source of power. A red glow radiated from columns and rhomboid-shaped alcoves in the wall, although she couldn't tell if they were electronic, symbological or something else entirely. They barely illuminated the room as it was, and they faded in and out, giving Welch the impression that they were dying and might not be replaced, a notion that made her rather melancholy. This place was unimaginably ancient, probably older than the Ten Wise Men or maybe even deities such as Freya, but the technology level was superior to anything she had seen before. The gigantic device with the circular door that covered the back wall intrigued her the most, as it reminded her of a starship's airlock, a vault door that could hide the most valuable treasure or the most dangerous weapon in the Universe, or maybe it was supposed to be a giant mystic eye. Whatever it was, there looked to be no way to open it, and there were things far more important to Welch in the dimly lit chamber than admiring the pretty architecture.

From an overhanging gantry made of smaller stone blocks hung a series of display screens. Each one showed an image that Welch recognised as some sort of simulation or game in play, but they all showed different scenes, creating a chaotic pastiche of bright, primary colours that swirled into one another to the clashing background sounds of several different music tracks, all of them fairly well designed but none of them really designed to be played at the same time as the others. Fortunately, the sound was turned down fairly low. There was even something relaxing about the flickering lights and faint noises. On a comfortable-looking sofa made out of some flexible plastic material, Chisato sat, one leg crossed over the over, and silently watched the displays. Welch took her place beside her best friend without disturbing the quiet, as though they were afraid to wake something that was sleeping in an unlit corner of the room, something they didn't know the size of, or whether or not it ate souls. She wasn't a Valkyrie, with divine authority to slay evil, in this world, just a girl watching a screen.

The screens showed simplified images of themselves, of their entire party, and appeared to be a record of their quest. Mostly, it showed them falling in Phynal Tower, over and over again, for different reasons, at different stages of their adventure. Some versions of them looked stronger, or even showed them training in some mysterious place for days on end, others looked as though they had tried to fight the Ten Wise Men even earlier. Sometimes they remembered to equip enough Amulets of Flexibility but didn't have enough fire resistance charms. Sometimes they focussed too much on Vesper but were killed by Decus, other times it was the other way round. Sometimes they hadn't even died in the battle with Decus and Vesper, but something had gone wrong in the fight with one of the other Wise Men. A few of the screens even showed more mysterious outcomes, mostly to do with her encounters with Freya and her world, or other lands altogether that Welch didn't even recognise. She felt physically sick. Even watching the simulation made Welch's head hurt in a way that sent bright red lights shooting through her consciousness. It wasn't the memory of the pain, or the sight of images that were meant tor represent her friends dying. It wasn't even the frustration of her repeated failure, or the hopelessness knowing that she had tried over and over again to no avail, and that she was running out of things to try. It was the knowledge that she had almost succeeded. It was the constant feeling of just about seeing the light, then being dragged back down by the darkness. It was the fact that denied her the simple mercy of even having the option to surrender, because she was almost there. It had almost worked. Almost - she felt as though that single word had been branded into the core of her being, and if she took a dive into her own subconscious simulator, all she would find is forests, mountains and seas made entirely of almosts.

"What is this thing?" demanded Chisato, "Is someone keeping a library of our progress without us knowing about it? I don't remember most of this happening!"

"It's... it's like the gift of prophecy," explained Welch, "But it's even more advanced than Oracle training. You can see different realms, different possibilities, pretty much anything that could ever exist in the Universe. Think of it as seeing what Tria sees."

"You sound like you've been here before."

"Once or twice, here and there," admitted Welch, "But it's not something that you just get to use when you feel like it. You don't even get to know anything. It's more of an awareness. A new perspective."

"Are we having a vision now?"

"I have no idea what's going on. I was dying, so I thought maybe Tria saved me, even though I don't really deserve it," said Welch, "The question is, what are you doing here?"

"I was trying to disconnect my mind from my body, like I was shown. I guess I did it a little wrong, or maybe just took a wrong turning," said Chisato, "My instructions weren't very precise, and he did say it might bring me 'too close to Tria'."

"I don't understand. You left your body? Who told you?"

"Would you believe Decus? I had started to become disconnected with my body while I was petrified, because of the sensory deprivation. I kept hearing Decus whispering to me. I'm not sure how he'd contacted me - I assume he must have some Oracle training himself. He kept spouting nonsense that wasn't helping my own mental state, about how I needed to adapt if I was going to last for eternity. I just assumed he was deliberately taunting me. But I realised that if I returned to that state, I might survive inside the simulation. The shock of dying in a simulation isn't lethal if you don't believe yourself to be in your body at all."

"Decus taught you how to achieve enlightenment? Seriously? In three days?"

"Three days passes slowly when you're petrified and someone is screeching down your ear," said Chisato, "But, no, I'm ashamed to say I cheated. I told Vesper to petrify me again."

"You did WHAT?"

"I'm a reporter. I run towards the disaster, not away from it."

"You're an idiot! You're even crazier than Decus!"

"Okay, then, what have you been doing? We all thought you were dead," Chisato pointed out, "I guess those were somebody else's ashes?"

"Oh, I was! Very dead! But then Freya turned me into a Valkyrie!"

"Uh-huh? And I'm the crazy one."

"It's true! Shigeo and Marsilio were my Einherjar! Ask them if you don't believe me! Oh, but I'm not sure they'll be alive either," Welch stared down at her feet, "The battle didn't go so well. Again. It's probably a good job you didn't go in there after all. It's even more dangerous now than you think it is."

"Okay, and what do you suggest we do, Lady Valkyrie?" Chisato's use of the honorific was unambiguously sarcastic.

"I have no idea. Like I said, I don't really know what's going on right now," said Welch, still downcast, "I'm sorry, Chisato. I should be doing better than this. I should know what to do. Even when Tria helps me, I can't make things right."

"Well, if she's just going to show you visions of yourself failing again and again, no wonder she isn't being much help." 

"I thought I was supposed to infer what I was doing wrong. That I might get it with a little more practice, if I just tried over and over again. Or at least I should warn the others what I'm getting them into."

"I don't think telling them that they're doomed to failure will actually stop Claude or Rena from doing whatever they want to do," said Chisato, "What choice do they have, anyway? If we quit, the whole Universe will be destroyed."

"Sometimes I worry that I'm the one who dooms myself to failure," said Welch, "It's like failure has become comfortable. It's like my home, now. Maybe I'm even afraid to go onto the next part of my life."

"We certainly won't be able to go back to how things used to be once our quest is over," said Chisato, "We might not even see each other again. We don't all live on the same planets!"

"It shouldn't be a reason enough to die!" said Welch, "Can't we just promise ourselves that we'll think hard about what to do in the future?"

"It must be even tougher for the Ten Wise Men," said Chisato, "It's not like they can just live out their lives the way they want to, even if they do succeed. All they're allowed to do is destroy the Universe or die trying. Their entire lives will be gone either way."

"Chisato, you know they're not just inhuman monsters, don't you?" said Welch.

"I know. They're terrible at making sure their captives actually stay in the cell they've been put in. Or realising when they're within earshot of other people. Or checking the potted plants in their bedrooms for bugs."

"You saw it as well?"

"I can only assume we're both talking about the same recent event, from the way you're blushing."

"I think I know why you heard Decus whispering to you. Because you absolutely can't avoid poking your nose into other people's business!"

"Says the woman who pervs on people when she's dead!" Chisato replied in mock anger, before putting a hand to her mouth and cackling. Then she went silent, her eyes growing distant.

"What is it?" demanded Welch.

"I think I know where we're supposed to go," said Chisato, "Something I remember. I'm not supposed to, but I do. And I'm almost entirely sure it'll be there, if that world really is Decus' innermost thoughts and feelings."

"What are you talking about?"

"That room. There. On the centre screen."

Welch inhaled sharply. Of all the screens, of all the fates playing out, it was the only place where she was still alive.


	9. Chapter 9

When she touched the screen, its surface shimmered and the lights in the room faded, so that the light in front of her was the only one she could see. It rippled and expanded in a circle to envelop her in a kaleidoscope of swirling blocky images and surging, roaring noises. Then it shrank, and Welch was in total darkness. She could hear a faint rustling sound from somewhere in the distance. There were no other clues that anything else existed – she couldn't even see her own body - so she willed herself to move in that direction and hoped she had legs. A pinprick of light appeared, gradually growing larger and turning into a distinct image. The light reflected off her own form now, and she was faintly disappointed that she still wasn't a Valkyrie again. Maybe she had lost that right when she failed her duty to Freya, she mused. She remembered that, in the stories, Valkyrie Lenneth had survived the death of Odin and had even broken the seal on her own consciousness that bound her fate to the Gods, while not only retaining her Valkyrie power but even surpassing it. If Lenneth could do it, she reassured herself, so could Welch. Then she remembered that she was an incompetent Valkyrie, and that incompetent Valkyries generally got their souls repossessed and impounded.

Now there was enough light – a kind of grey-blue, like the gentle rays of the moon – to see shapes, and to spot Chisato wandering around the void as well, looking equally lost. Where the blackness ended, a garden began. High walls covered in ivy protected the garden, with a heavy iron gate. Approaching the entrance slowly, Welch saw the gate slide open on its own to admit the two girls. The ivy wasn't green or growing, but it was fossilised, preserved in a fragile immortality. As she stepped through the gates, she saw that the walls inside were covered in the same ivy, and that the hanging baskets and trellises hanging from the walls contained other trailing plants, as well as delicate flowers and small flowering bushes, all of them petrified. To either side of the path that led to the centre of the garden, avenues of small trees stood, and by each tree was a statue. Welch recognised some of the statues but not others, and by the way Chisato stopped to stare at them, her friend recognised a lot more. The statues continued in a ring around an empty fountain in the middle, each statue surrounded by flower beds. A Bunny statue was the fountain's centrepiece. Inside the bunny's mouth, like an apple for a roast pig, was a small model of the Crest of Annihilation. Benches were arranged around the fountain, and at the back of the garden a bench was placed against the far wall, shielded from the sun by the branches of a willow tree that still somehow swayed in an intangible wind, despite also being petrified. A small brazier also stood next to the bench. It was lit, the only indication that anything in this secluded, ancient garden had ever been alive. Decus lounged with one arm resting across the back of the bench, staring into the flames, his expression pensive.

“Did Vesper make all of this for you?” asked Welch, staring at a statue of herself that stood next to what might have been a cheerful pink rhododendron bush at some point. There were statues of the rest of the party, including Welch, despite her not being petrified, and one that looked suspiciously like Nicolus, holding a crate and looking over his shoulder with an expression of dawning realisation.

“They're not all real statues,” Decus confirmed, “Sometimes I put things in here that I really need to remember,” he pointed to the small fire burning merrily away in the brazier, “Can you see the shapes in the flames too?”

Welch had heard of Oracles who used fire as a focus for divination. Chisato had said he was fond of passing on knowledge, and everyone knew he was completely crazy, but she hadn't mentally connected this with such techniques before. His 'telepathy' was probably shared prophecy. She didn't ask if the statue of Nicolus was a fond memory of him or if he had done something to piss off Vesper while holding a crate at some point. For all she knew, if he was more powerful an Oracle than she realised, some of these souvenirs might not actually be from the past.

“This is where I put anything that I want to preserve,” Decus explained further, “It is the one place I do not allow myself to set fire to. I am only allowed this small fire to keep myself alive.”

“So, it's true that some of you really don't want to destroy everything?” asked Chisato.

“Quiet, nosy reporter!” hissed Decus.

“You're the one who allowed me in here! What did you expect me to do?”

“Do not tell Indalecio!” demanded Decus.  
Chisato glared at him, “I'm not some kiss-and-tell Papparazi! Who's been spreading these horrible rumours about me?” 

“Decus, are you aware of what's going on outside?” asked Welch.

“Eh? Of course I am,” he said, pointing to the flames again. Their leaping, twirling patterns coalesced into images that Welch could see now – of the inferno outside the garden, of Surt rallying his troops and preparing them to leave, to march upon the rest of the Universe. He looked agitated, distracted, and suddenly began screaming, throwing things around and removing the heads of anyone who tried to get too close or said the wrong thing while advising him. Chisato, who hadn't seen any of it before, looked startled by the devastation.

“He's looking for you,” Welch realised, “He can't get complete control unless he forces you to leave entirely. But you wouldn't let this place be so easy to reach from the outside.”

“Of course not! It would be damaged by the heat,” said Decus, “This is for important things. Things so important that I cannot even tell Indalecio.”

“This is the part of you that Surt can't possess. Because it's not enough like himself. He doesn't have anything he wants to preserve, anything about him that isn't already on fire. He'll consume himself in his own flames after he destroys everything he can,” said Welch, “But you're worried he might do a lot of damage to this place in his rage.”

“You can't just stay here, though!” said Chisato, “He'll find you eventually.”

“I know. I'm waiting for the best time to strike. I can't fight him with fire, and I don't have much else to hit him with, so I can't really do much to hurt him. But, I have two huge advantages... he doesn't know where I am, and everyone knows a genius strategist can't be defeated on their own territory!”

“So, what's your plan, oh Grand Master?” Chisato rolled her eyes, as if to ask why everyone was feeding her so much bullshit today. Welch thought her cynicism was rather unfair, as she had already proven that Surt was really invading, yet the reporter wouldn't believe she was telling the truth about everything else, too!

“Vesper has been trying to reach me, hasn't he?”

“Um... yes... yes, he has...” Welch blushed. It took her every inch of self-control not to tell him everything, and she wondered if it was how Decus felt every time he had to not set something on fire. 

“I have started to predict when he will next do so. He is very regular. I think he must go straight to my side after his shift is over, and during lunch breaks. I can't wake up, or send a message back, but I can always feel it when it happens. Next time, I'm going to open myself up to it a lot more, try my best to contact the outside world. I think that will destabilise the simulator. When that happens, I want you to lure him into the weak spot and kick him out.”

“And how do you expect me to do that?”

“The same way you left and came back. Welch, I know you're particularly good at it.”

“This... is a surprisingly good plan!”

“I surprised myself with what I can come up with when I have a while to think and I can't just burn everything down,” said Decus, “Now, Vesper will return to my side in around half an hour. I suggest you do whatever you need to do to prepare for battle.”

“I wish I knew what that was! I'm not even a Valkyrie any more. How do I fight someone as powerful as Surt?”

“Holy Tria! They really are there?” Chisato cried out, pointing to the flames. Welch craned her neck to look, and saw two familiar figures, hiding behind a rocky outcrop and gesturing to each other in animated, flustered conversation, “I should have known you wouldn't have thought of a scenario that improbable if you were lying. What in Tria's name are they doing here?”

“In Freya's name, actually,” said Welch, “And if they're still alive... if they can still manifest in this world... they must be Einherjar. Which means there must still be a Valkyrie. Freya said there weren't any other Valkyries around, and she can't bring in more if she's dead, so...”

“They look so brave and noble. Exactly how I always imagined the immortal warriors of the Gods to be,” Chisato rolled her eyes, “I still think you've lost your mind, but then, who am I to talk? If we've got a fighting chance, I guess it doesn't matter if you don't want to tell me what really happened.”

Welch glared at her. She didn't sound very sincere. Welch satisfied herself with the knowledge that, when Chisato saw Welch rise majestically over a flaming battlefield on a Valkyrie's wings, she would have her proof beyond doubt. The apologies could wait until later, when this was all finally over.


	10. Chapter 10

"Disobey a direct order from me again, and I'll have you deleted," said Indalecio. Vesper lifted a single, thick dark grey eyebrow but did not break the stone-cold gaze he had fixed upon his leader. As usual, the tall, willowy man with the long, wavy red hair and labcoat met his gaze with a look of arrogance, his eyes sad and faraway.

Ruprecht, Jibril and Nicolus glanced from the senior Wise Man to their commander, then back again, with a mixture of fear, trepidation and morbid curiosity. None of them missed the weight behind Vesper's almost whispered words. It was like watching two particularly large and dangerous cats posturing and not knowing if it would turn into a fight this time. Politics in the upper ranks was always complicated, the hierarchy tenuous, the consequences of a slip-up lethal bordering upon deletory and the whole mess generally best not to get involved with, but lately it seemed worse. 

"With all due respect, sir, all I'm trying to do is make sure you don't lose a third Wise Man for good,” said Vesper, “Decus and I are responsible for keeping each other alive, and my partner only shows signs of responding to his environment when I visit him...”

“I'm not asking you not to visit him, I'm asking for you, as well as every other surviving Wise Man, to take a longer shift than normal. We're three men down, we have vague reports of intruders that weren't even tracked, we have mysteriously reappearing software that I thought I explicitly told Decus' team to destroy, and we have some kind of threat running around that, despite being able to kill two Wise Men and put a senior Wise Man in a coma, I don't appear to be able to get a straight answer from anyone about,” said Indalecio, “Added to this, I've had to replace an entire four billion Fol Crest of Annihilation and I'm not going to be able to activate it again unless I get some peace and quiet for a change. Need I remind you who was responsible for the incident that almost destroyed my entire laboratory?”

Vesper frowned as he recalled the incident that his leader spoke of. Decus had been quite happily and rather successfully cooking a meal for everyone, when Shigeo decided to play a prank on him by requesting increasingly bizarre menu items, culminating in a live Bunny that he wanted the pyromaniac to slowly burn to death while he watched. It had taken the Bunny around two seconds to wriggle free of Decus' grasp and, while still very much on fire, make a beeline for Indalecio's laboratory. To make matters worse, everyone else was sat at the dinner table on their lunch break, the only time they were all in one room and nobody was guarding the upper floors. The first person to arrive at the scene was Decus, who had, after receiving no order to the contrary, carpet-Spiculed and completely wrecked the place to make absolutely sure the offending animal was dead.

“Sir, the way I remember things, that was Shigeo, who is no longer with us...” 

“It was Decus following Shigeo's request. Decus is supposed to be in charge of the team I put together for him, and he's supposed to be accountable for their actions. He can wait a little longer in the medical room, where he is being kept alive perfectly satisfactorily, while you do your job. I can't afford to have a fourth Wise Man unavailable to me in an emergency.”

“Sir, I can teleport, I can respond to an emergency from anywhere in the Tower, and I do not have any other free time to visit him if you take away any more breaks! I'm already working his normal shift as well as my own, I am not capable of putting in any overtime!”

“You are the most powerful beings in the Universe, and yet you prattle on like common labourers! Can I not even count on obedience from those who are programmed to serve me? Is it true that the entire command structure of this Tower is falling apart?” Indalecio snapped, “If anything, ANYTHING out of the ordinary is spotted on Cyril's floor, never mind my own, I will delete you both. Do you understand?”

“It won't. Sir,” Vesper saluted. Indalecio turned to regard the three middle-ranked Wise Men, who tried not to meet his gaze. Ruprecht looked openly nervous, the other two were not really capable of full facial expressions, one having a scanning augmenter over his eyes, the other having no visible face under his cowl. 

“You're responsible for the behaviour of your team as well,” he told Vesper, “No sending them off on any more unsanctioned away missions. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Now, I must return to programming the Crest this instant. I don't wish to hear from anyone else. If you have any urgent business, direct it to Cyril.”

The four of them watched their leader teleport away in awkward silence, then Ruprecht whispered to Vesper, “Don't worry, I'll cover for you so you can go off and visit him for a few minutes. He won't know the difference. He doesn't even leave his room when he's doing Crest of Annihilation things.”

“Thank you, Ruprecht, but I would not want to get you into trouble.”

“'S okay. We both know you're gonna sneak out anyway. It'd suck worse if there was an actual intruder, so I don't want you to leave the room unguarded.”

“I do not plan to leave anything unguarded. I have... other options,” said Vesper, mentally rifling through his inventory of statues that could be animated with a few medical supplies that nobody ever noticed when they went missing. Chisato was probably not an option – if she was still in the simulation, the shock of being physically revived might kill her – and he was fairly sure the other Nedian-looking one was some kind of healer. The men with swords looked dangerous, too, and they were bound to cause at least some mess that would get him in trouble with Indalecio before he explained to them that he would revive their friends if they did one simple job for him. On the other hand, they might kill Cyril if they got out...

“I get the impression that these options are going to cause just as much trouble if Cyril ever decides to poke his head downstairs,” said Ruprecht, “Indalecio said to be responsible when commanding us. Delegating is totally a responsible leader thing to do. Besides, I want to raid your tea cabinet.”

Vesper sighed, “Okay, but please watch out for Cyril yourself. From what Indalecio said, Cyril has been giving helpful advice again. At least, I assume you didn't decide to rat yourselves out.”

“I assume he is monitoring our systems without our knowledge again, or is using some method or other to overhear our conversations,” said Nicolus, “No doubt while on some perfectly legitimate and authorised business of his own. I shall have to reinforce our network and personal security. It is the only responsible thing during a crisis.”

“Does Indalecio really think that Decus' accident is the start of some wider threat to the Tower?” asked Jibril. Vesper nodded, a long-suffering frown on his face.

“I've tried to convince him otherwise, but I'm not exactly in his good books at the moment.”

“I'm sure it'll all die down once enough time passes with no disasters happening. He'll stop caring once he really gets into the Crest thing, anyway,” Ruprecht reassured him, “And Decus is gonna be okay. I promise! I'll help you heal him.”

Vesper thanked the child-faced Wise Man again, then teleported back to his own room to put the kettle on. Ruprecht turned back to Nicolus, who had retrieved their secret box from under the table and opened it up so that Jibril could peer inside.

“I think it's time for our own plan, soon, before someone includes us in theirs,” said Nicolus, “Everyone else has started their plan. Cyril's been trying to put his in place for years, Vesper's clearly up to something, Shigeo flat failed at his, and I shudder to think what Decus is trying to accomplish in his life.” 

“We're going to be deleted if we're ever caught with this,” said Jibril.

“It won't be as long as you think,” replied Nicolus, “I can already access the main system – I found some passwords – and my own deletory magic is now advanced enough to handle some of the Crest's energy. It doesn't have to be all of it. I'm not aiming for quite as dramatic a result.”

Ruprecht just stared at nothing in particular and smiled.

Meanwhile, Vesper sat back in his chair with a cup of tea in one hand and watched the monitors for the security cameras. Only half his attention was on the screens before his eyes. The other half was filled with further thoughts of people, and maybe Bunnies again, miraculously re-appearing into the bigger picture at certain convenient intervals. Now wasn't the time – he agreed with Ruprecht on that – but it was an interesting thought for later. He no longer trusted either of them, not when they evidently cared so little for Decus' safety, and while he didn't want to betray either of them without need, he would always have one eye open and at least one type of resource available when the time inevitably came.

He visited Decus at exactly the same time that he normally did.


	11. Chapter 11

Outside, the ground began to rumble and several of the volcanoes erupted. Lightning flashed, momentarily piercing the gloom. Behind the roiling clouds of smoke, Welch saw a jagged rent forming in the illusion of a night sky, small at first, then slowly spreading and branching, causing rainbow fractal patterns to seep through like a crack in a computer screen. She looked around and saw that Decus was staring even more intently into the prophetic flames, a strangely calm look on his face. She could see Vesper's face materialising in the heart of the fire. The two of them gazed into each other's eyes. Vesper was trying to speak but no sound passed across the distance between them, and she couldn't quite work out what words his lips formed. She could guess, though.

Surt noticed the irregularity in the skies as well. He paused in the middle of his rage and looked straight up at the cracks that now formed a shimmering lattice directly above him. A puzzled look crossed his ferocious, half-molten face. He raised his sword to the heavens and roared at his subordinates, demanding an explanation. He looked as though he were about to smack the offending phenomenon with his sword and then try and set fire to it. Welch hoped he would try; it would make her job a lot easier. She could see why he chose Decus as his mortal avatar. However, she also knew that, unlike Decus, Surt really would do nothing except keep burning hotter and hotter until he consumed himself along with everything in the Universe. Decus was far too delusionally self-obsessed to be suicidal, and besides, he still had things in the Universe he wanted to be left intact.

Welch placed an ethereal hand into the flames and they swirled around her, replacing the image of the garden with the world outside. Chisato followed her. Once she stepped onto the searing black rock, Welch saw the divine energy coalesce around her again and felt her Valkyrie powers returning. She reached out for her Ethereal Handy Stick and it reappeared in her outstretched hand. When the first Fire Giant spotted her and rushed to attack, she found out that the reporter was also as formidable in battle as ever. She cartwheeled into the Giant and kicked him in the kneecap, then, when he roared in pain and clutched at his knee, she retrieved a giant cannister of nerve gas from nowhere and threw it in his face. Finally, as it was blinded, she ran back and started yelling over her phone, which somehow caused homing missiles to rain down onto the enemy. 

“To my side, my Einherjar!” Welch called as she swooped towards a group of three Eldjotnar who had run up to join the fray. Shigeo and Marsilio darted out from behind the rock. The cyborg Wise Man had already started firing even more missiles to add to the constant stream that Chisato was now summoning from Tria-knows-where. Marsilio soon caught up and hurled himself at the enemy, bringing his massive sword around in a swing that cleaved through a Giant's arm.

They were soon noticed fully. Tremors ran through the already shaking ground, sending chunks of magma hurtling upwards at them, as Surt stomped towards them. His voice resounded with fury, “WHERE DID YOU GO, VALKYRIE? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! ADMIT IT – YOU KNOW WHERE MY VESSEL IS HIDING!”

“His heart belongs to another!” cried Welch, pointing her Handy Stick at him. He slashed at her with his sword, a wave of fire trailing after the blade, but she anticipated his move and soared higher into the air, over his head. He roared in frustration as he was pelted with missiles and nerve gas, then struck with a column of divine light that almost punched straight through one of his eyes. 

“YOU THINK HOVERING ABOVE ME WILL HELP YOU? I WOULD HAVE LET YOU RETREAT, BUT NOW YOU KNOW WHERE MY VESSEL IS HIDING, I SHALL PURSUE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE!”

“Oh yeah? Then catch me!” Welch stuck her tongue out and made a noise that did not befit a divine, graceful battle maiden. At the same time, a business card appeared in Surt's hand and exploded, followed by another volley of missiles.

“SPICULE!” yelled Surt, brandishing his blade and propelling himself into the air after Welch, sword point first. A blazing coruscation flowed from him, filling the entire valley, crushing several boulders under its sheer weight, flattening the Eldjotnar who were still standing and setting fire to every square inch of the basin that wasn't already aflame. Even the ethereal body of Marsilio was somehow set on fire and he ran screaming across the valley, away from Shigeo's attempts to put him out. The elementals who floated on the breeze were absorbed by their champion's sheer force of being. In a moment of panic, Welch tried to look around for Chisato, but the reporter was mysteriously floating above her, a hand outstretched to grab her and pull her further up as she dipped sharply upwards. The world went by as a crimson blur, both with the glare of the blaze that was now tearing apart the fabric of Muspelheim, and the pain as she strained her very essence to keep herself aloft, to stay moving faster than she was designed to fly. Her expression was contorted with effort and she knew tears were streaming uncontrollably down her face, yet somehow, Chisato still looked calm, almost as though she weren't there at all.

“You're nearly there,” whispered the reporter's voice in her head.

“Are you okay? You don't sound right.”

“That's just because I'm half standing in the exit already.”

“Chisato... when we go back...”

“It's not going to be good for either of us. I know. I don't really know what we can do about it.”

“Where's Surt going to go?”

“I don't think he has anywhere. He'll just have to keep searching, and hope his spirit is strong enough to keep him going.”

“I'm going to have to face him again.”

“If you still get to be a Valkyrie. I don't know how that sort of thing works.”

“But you believe me about being a Valkyrie?”

“You, yes. I still don't believe those two idiots are your Einjerhar.”

“Chisato... don't go back. There are other places we can go. You already saw...”

“I'll be okay. Don't worry about me. You're very close, now.”

There was an audible crunching snap, a sound like glass breaking under the heel of a boot, followed by a shimmering noise as a shower of transparent dust fell down over them. The white light was intense now, burning brighter than the flames of Muspelheim, and Welch couldn't block it out by closing her eyes. Only when she lost consciousness did the pain stop. She couldn't will herself to keep hold of Chisato's hand any more. In the last seconds of her memory, it wasn't Chisato any more...


	12. Chapter 12

Ruprecht, Jibril and Nicolus watched Vesper run down the corridor, screaming and swearing in ancient Nedian, his moustache and eyelashes on fire. 

“I guess Decus is awake,” said Ruprecht.

“I wonder why he's running away from the medical room? He must know the burn cream is in the drawer,” said Jibril.

As if in answer, the titanium door of the medical room flew off its hinges and sailed past the three research Wise Men, landing several metres away, followed by a jet of flame that almost filled the entire corridor. 

“Someone's up bright and early this morning,” commented Ruprecht.

“Who do you think's paying for all that?” asked Jibril.

“Well, we weren't anywhere near the medical room when it happened. We were never spying on Vesper, because we knew nothing about his secret visits to Decus while he was supposed to be working,” said Jibril, “What's wrong, Nicolus? You look worried.”

“I forgot to put the lid back on the box,” he said, “Those things are expensive.”

“What things?”

“Stone Cures. I was trying to work out why so many were going missing without anyone signing for them on the inventory. I guess we don't have any, now, so it doesn't really matter.”

Ruprecht shrugged. Just then, Decus strode out of the medical room, looking incredibly pleased with himself. He waved at the three of them. 

“Hey, tell us your story!” demanded Ruprecht.

“Later! I must find Vesper! Then I really ought to tell the boss I am back. We shall reconvene for a nice cup of tea and a whole roast Bunny this evening, eh?”

“I want that green tea you keep a stash of!” said Ruprecht. Decus nodded, then ran down the corridor, forcing him to yell, “Sorry about what happened to Shigeo and Marsilio!”

“So... Indalecio's reaction...” Jibril watched the medical room slowly burn to the ground, “Would anyone like to place bets?”

* * *

Through the vast infinitude of the space between worlds, three spirits soared. They had emerged in the void at a single spot but they quickly shot away from each other, their destinations very different. 

One, a vast, angry fireball, headed towards the nearest world with intelligent life, hovered around its entrance, scanning it for suitable vessels, then retreating after his search bore no fruit. Occasionally the next world he invaded turned out to be guarded, whereupon he was quickly chased away, having no real form or presence to manifest weapons or defences. However, he didn't give up. Somewhere, there would be another vessel. He vowed to himself that he would never return to the world where he was deceived, trapped, weakened, made to live in so much pain and loneliness. He would also never go back to place where he had such irritating, awkward incarnations, no matter how deliciously apt they were. What the world was called, the name or shape of his new vessel, did not matter to him. The role he was fated to play, his essential nature, was the same the Universe over. There would still be a Universe to burn when he came back. Unless that Decus fellow did the job for him after all.

The second, a fulminescent orb of pure blue light, travelled until she found Asgard Hill, and the Goddess who had given her the form she currently inhabited. Freya was waiting for her among the ruins and the charred grass, the molten wreckage of the Water Mirror. She was badly wounded, her life force barely flickering, but still alive. The Goddess smiled to see her Valkyrie.

“I'm sorry I didn't come back for you,” said Welch.

“You did the right thing. The mission was more important than my safety. I was at fault for being fooled so easily.”

“That's his favourite trick. You take your eyes off him, you get distracted by something else, you're dead. And half the time he's distracting you so something else can kill you.”

“I'm surprised to be alive. I don't think he was quite at full strength.”

“Let's just say, he made pretty much the same mistake, only his version was more stupid.”

“He learns from his mistakes, though. I haven't heard the last of this. It was wise of you not to try and fight him head on, with the amount of damage you've taken, but the cycle will only begin again, and he's always part of it.”

“Haven't you thought that maybe he's an important part? You can't keep driving him away much longer. It's only making the situation worse.”

She laughed, “You think you're the one who can tell me that? Yes, I know I have to face my death, the death of everything, before the Universe can truly be reborn. That's why I stopped broadcasting. It's why I let you carry on with your mission. But it looks like the cycle of fate isn't fixed yet.”

“Why did you wait for me here, anyway, if you didn't think I would come back? Are you stuck here?”

“I'm waiting for the Seraphic Gate to come and pick me up. They'll be glad to see I'm still alive. They seem rather fond of me. I think it's why I survive so many situations I know I really shouldn't.”

“I think I might understand what you're talking about,” said Welch, sitting on the stump of a fallen column beside the spot where Freya hovered, “Can I wait with you? I don't really have anywhere else to do. And I want to ask them for a favour...”

Meanwhile, the third sphere, a tiny pinprick of light, barely visible, flew unnoticed by the wider Universe. It would seem beyond belief to any casual observer that such a mundane soul would have the audacity to head straight towards the Seraphic Gate and hover outside the door until someone let her in. Eventually – it could have been seconds, it could have been aeons, neither would have mattered to the overall perspective of the Universe – the Iselia Queen opened the door, glared at her, waved her in, then slammed the door behind them. 

“You idiots do nothing but screw up,” the Dark Angel muttered, “I suppose you're going to bother Tria for another chance as well.”

“Another chance? Why, who was in here asking for another chance? I was thinking more of an in-depth interview, to be honest, but...”

The Iselia Queen stopped her and whirled her around, frowning, “Is it gonna be in that rag of yours?” 

“I'll have you know the Nede Chronicle is the most popular, reliable, unbiased...”

“Are we gonna make the front page?”

“Well, duh, you're the Gods of the Universe!”

“Can you photograph my good side?”

“Sure, if you can get me a room with better lighting than this one.”

“... Does my annoying sister really need to know about this?”

* * *

Badly in need of repairs, with the last remaining user logged out, with its current host machine suddenly disconnected without going through the usual logout procedure – the server had determined that it was a genuine forced logout due to some kind of catastrophic system failure – the simulation shut itself down. From its permanent client machine in the darkest depths of the Eternal Sphere, the three most recently accessed AI – the only ones to have been loaded up for several billion years now, except for one other who had only been accessed for a few brief seconds – waited patiently as their host software and their own code was repaired. One of them was too badly damaged to remain conscious during repairs, so the other two watched over him.

“Do you think he's going to be okay?” asked Marsilio.

“Hm? Of course, he's strong as an alpha bull Psynard. Oh, you don't mean that one,” Shigeo's optical sensors flashed on and off, “Don't worry about him. He'll be fine. He's even more difficult to get rid of than the virtual Decus.”

“But our Decus almost got torn apart, and he's a piece of software. He'll complain about it, but he'll be okay as long as there's enough of him left to restore from backup. That guy's mind was being used as a battleground, and it got quite a few chunks taken out of it.”

“He can repair himself, remember. He's refusing any attempts at contact. That means he's angry and tired, and secretly relieved to see his friends again, and he doesn't want to think about what a confusing day he's had. That means he's still himself. If he weakened even for a moment, Surt would have taken over, and we'd know about it. ”

“That, and I have a creeping suspicion that both the host machines might be on fire right now.”

“That might be for the best. I don't think I want to know what's inside, say, Cyril's unconscious mind, or Indalecio's. Or Vesper's, for that matter. I'm a little worried about Jibril sometimes.”

“I think most of them would say the same about you.”

“Well, they don't have to worry for a while. Without a local host, we're not going back home in a hurry. Our secret might be safe forever.”

“I'm surprised nobody noticed for this long,” said Shigeo, “There's no way we could have survived that battle. Anyway, do we really have that little personality, that our closest friends can't tell us apart from computer software?”

“Well, our only other friend is Decus, and he couldn't care less whether we're the originals or not.”

“That's true,” said Shigeo, “I hope Berle won't be too lonely by himself.”

“He's not by himself,” Marsilio stared over at the sleeping virtual Decus. A healthy orange sheen had returned to the now brightly burning flames that wreathed his head, and he snored like a chainsaw, “Maybe he'd like to be deactivated altogether for a while, to save all his energy for repairs?”

“Do that and you will burn,” declared the AI, opening one eye in a sudden sharp movement before rolling to one side, resting his head in his arms and going back to sleep.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the sounds of expectations//in all chaos, there is calculation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151103) by [ideare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideare/pseuds/ideare)




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